


Begin Again

by Tinalouise88



Category: Anne of Green Gables - L. M. Montgomery
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27271573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tinalouise88/pseuds/Tinalouise88
Summary: Sometimes the hardest step is the first step you take. For Rilla, meeting Kenneth Ford for coffee was that first step. After years of self-doubt, she's ready to Begin Again.
Relationships: Bertha Marilla "Rilla" Blythe/Kenneth Ford
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

I've had this story in the back of my mind for a while, but last night during some episode that I'm not truly over that shook me to the core. Basically I learned something but broke my heart and scream at how unfair the world could be. One thing that should have never brought two women together, brought two women together.

So this came out of it. Inspired by a Taylor Swift Song.

* * *

Begin Again

* * *

I must be crazy, allowing Di to set this up. I looked in the mirror once more checking over my smidge of make-up I had put on for this. Nothing much, some concealer and powder, mascara and a touch pearly eyeshadow. I swiped my lip balm over my lip and smiled hesitantly.

I look over to my array of shoes, mentally going back there. That time when I was told that I shouldn't wear heels. I took a deep breath and wiggled my foot into my favourite pair.

I look into the mirror by my door, looking myself over. A flowing green skirt, a tailored white shirt, white and dark green wedged heels. Did I look cute? Maybe I should have invited Nan over for this? She's always good at things like this?

Are my shoes too high? No, I wasn't going there again right now.

At least I was no longer wearing a cast or a sling. I have mobility back into my left arm. At least it had been my left arm that had been injured. The second injury that took the longest to heal, the first I'm still not sure I will ever get over, even if my therapist says that one day it will fade like the bruises I wore for so long.

I put on a brave face. I trusted Di and her judgement, and while this was a friendly let's go see an old family friend set up, we had grown up together. I could trust him, couldn't I? I swing my bag over my shoulder and grab my keys.

Here goes nothing I tell myself I lock the door. I walk down the small hallways, to the side door where my car is in the parking lot, waving to my neighbours here and there that I saw. The old ladies smiled at me, some pleasantly surprised to see me in something other than yoga pants.

I felt safe in this building,

"I can do this," I tell myself as I sit in my car, before starting up. The radio coming to life as it syncs to my phone. My favourite song comes on and I can't help but smile as I turn it up, Turing to ignore the background voices in my head, about the times I tried to please him.

It never worked. I shook my head deciding to not go there today.

The drive to the cafe wasn't long, but parking is horrendous as I fight to find a spot. I check my phone, sending a quick message to Di telling her that I have arrived. A small safety net for myself, a constant nod of reassurance that someone knows where I am.

I'm early, but I'd rather be early than late if I had a choice. I'm half expecting him to be late but I spot his dark hair that once made swoon as a teenager. He's looking better than I could have remembered, the years have done him justice. His hair styled in typical fashion, short on the side, longer on the top, dark stubble went over across his jaw, that perfectly lived-in five o'clock shadow. He close to thirty at this point? Walter would have been thirty-one this year, my heart is heavy at the thought of my brother who died in a car crash when I was seventeen. He was dressed in dark jeans and casual blue polo, his tan skin set off by a sunny day.

I muster up a smile as he sees me approach him.

"Rilla Blythe!" He said with a large smile, his grey eyes lighting up as he takes in a twenty-five-year-old me. "As I live and breath, when Di said you moved here I didn't believe her." He says brightly, he makes no move to hug me or any greeting until I hold my hand out to him.

I simple handshake I can manage.

"I like to lay low," I say quietly. "It's lovely to see you again, what's it been almost ten years?"

"Just about," He nodded. "My family came for Walters funeral," he said after a moment.

"Of course," I say with a small nod. "I remember you being there. I know he would have wanted you there."

"Shall we?" Ken said as he waved his hand towards the small outdoor patio was he wanted to usher me in. I nod my head, and he swiftly chooses a small outdoor table for us and holds out a chair for me to sit is as our waitress comes with two menus.

"Good morning, Coffee this morning?" She asked us as she gave us menus.

"Please," I nod my head.

"Early Grey tea please," Ken says for himself.

"Taking a beauty secret from Captain Picard," I find myself saying without thinking. I automatically flinch at my own words.

What was I thinking with such a corny joke?

I hear him laugh, a full-on belly laughs as he smiles at me. "I forget about your family's love for star trek." He says. "Captain Picard indeed, a cup of earl grey a day keeps the Klingons away?"

"That is…" I find myself shaking my head. "Bad," I settle with. "Blasphemy," I say next.

"I know," He flashes a grin at me.

"You were more a star wars fan were you not?" I asked him.

"Indeed," He smiles. "Have you seen any of the new ones?"

"I have not," I shake my head. "I haven't gotten out really in the past few years," I find myself telling him quietly.

I wonder if he knows? What did Di tell him about my sudden move to a whole new city, crashing at my sister's place until something became available? He didn't know about this first few days of utter terror and long cries as my mother showed up and hugged me until I could cry no more. My father talking to the police about a restraining order and then months of peace.

"Do you still listen to those god awful bands from your teenage years?" Ken asked with a dazzling smile. "What was it My Chemical Romance, Jonas Brothers, One Direction?"

"MCR is amazing, thank you very much," I tell him. "Though I do have a thing for Bowie lately, maybe one too many Queen Albums, along with all my Taylor Swift albums. "

"Little Miss Rilla Blythe listening to 70's music," Ken chuckles to me amused. "I would have never thought."

"Walters last birthday gift to me, that showed up a few weeks after his death, it was a soundtrack to Rocky Horror, we were going to go see the show for Halloween," I say quietly. "I found myself hearing him when I listened to certain albums. Walter loved his music."

"He did," Ken agreed with me.

"What have you been up too?" I ask him as the waitress came back with our drinks.

"Anything else?" She asks and I look up at Ken.

"Two blueberry scones," he said. "And two imperial cookies," he adds and the server nods and looks at me and I nod to say that suits me. He remembers little things from the island, blueberry scones, but the cookies were strictly Winnipeg.

"Well, I ended up in Winnipeg of all places. The land of winter, but I enjoy it. It's not Toronto, but at the same time if you go to different areas. It's like you're driving through Toronto or even parts of the Island." Ken said.

"I know what you mean, the houses in River Heights when they have all their colours in a row, it reminds me of home." I find myself agreeing with him. "I found myself a job at a local vintage consignment store, nothing grand but it pays the bills I suppose. I'm thinking about school lately," I trail off.

It's no secret that I had dropped out when I was twenty. Though many don't know the exact reasons as to why.

"I thought about getting back into dance, find some adult ballet classes," I tell him bravely. "It's been a while but dance is always good for the soul?"

"Have you been to the Ballet yet?" He asks me and I shake my head.

"Not yet, but Di says she would go to the Nutcracker this year with me if I wanted to," I explain as I break into one of the cookies.

"I took my niece one year when Persis was visiting. You did hear the Persis had a baby a few years back?" He asked not sure if I heard or not.

"I did, we are Facebook friends," I nod my head.

"We're Facebook friends, and I didn't even know you moved to Winnipeg," he points out to me. I merely shrug my shoulder.

"I don't share much on social media?" I tell him. A simple post with friends turned into fights one too many times. Those fights led me to ask if it was all right to see my friends, which led to them to stop asking. The only photos I was allowed to post had been about him and how happy we were. And outright lie. There was nothing happy in that relationship.

"There is something about Imperial cookies, that are so extremely Winnipeg," I say to change the subject as I bite into the large sandwich cookie. It consisted of two butter cookies, not quite a shortbread, but not a sugar cookie either. It was filled with raspberry jam and had a white glaze and a red dot on the top. Almost all coffee shops had them here but there were a few places known to be better than others. This place one of them.

"How do you feel about honey dill sauce?" He asked and I make a face, scrunching up my nose. He laughs again, and it starting to feel oddly comforting. "I'm the same way we can't people just be normal and get the plum sauce, or at the very least ranch?"

We leave the cafe after he allows me to split the bill with him, with hesitance as he wanted to pay for me. I know it was being childish, but in the back of my mind, I would owe him. Something I still can't fathom or allow of myself. I know hypothetically some men didn't expect things in return. That some men were actual gentlemen.

He stays a safe distance away from me, but there is a warm hand hovering at the small of my back that leads me out of the patio. We walk down the to the riverside, the Forks were always busy with people and a comfortable meeting place when you have little voices at the back of your head about every little thing that could happen or go wrong.

We walk down the river walk, watching as children ran past us. Couples on obvious dates but much more relaxed with each other. He offers to take my photo with the old Cathedral in the background across the river and I find myself allowing it as I pose trying to give a full smile. Still, there was that haunted look in my eyes as I examined the photo that he sent me.

"Where are you parked?" He asked.

"Down the street," I tell him. "Nothing closer two hours ago," I point down of the long parking plot that was next to the Forks.

'I'll walk with you, I walked," Ken flashes me a smile. "If that is all right with you?"

I nod slowly, reminding myself I don't need to be afraid of him. I've known him my whole life but my mind tells else wise, never trust anyone whether you've known them for ages or not. I can't figure out what Nan told him if she told him at all. Did Kenneth Ford who used to tease and call me spider when I was younger grow into a gentleman? Or was he actively trying to make me feel comfortable around him? So many mixed emotions? Was this a date? Or was this just a friendly hello?

I find myself flinching as he grabbed my arm. Yelping in surprise, terror-filled my mind, a god what did I do wrong?

"Rilla, hey, hey, it's all right," he says stepping away from me as the car with a young girl looked like she was going to cry from the almost accident.

"I'm okay, I'm sorry, I'm okay, I'm sorry," I say to her, to Ken on repeat. I step aside to let her through. I know at that moment, he knows. Or at the very least someone warned him about my skittishness.

"Nathan also said my head was too much in the clouds when walking," I said without thinking. I clam up, refusing to look at him. We fall into step beside each other one more, as my heart rate becomes calmer. We pass my car, as I point to a small park.

"Did you hear they film a lot of Christmas movies around here?" He asks me side-stepping my obvious discomfort.

"What was the one movie your family always watched?" I asked him. "I remember Walter going on about it, yet I can't never quite remember it."

"Ahh, it was between Babes in Toy land and Mickeys Christmas Carol," He thinks for a moment. "Your family was always the 1950s Grinch movie I believe."

"Indeed," I nod my head. "Or the one with Jim Carey of course," I say quietly.

"Do you want to do this again?" He asks carefully. I realize for the first time that this is a date for him. "At your own pace of course."

"I would like that," I nod slowly, he knows enough to understand what I'm coming out of. Everything else can come with time and trust.

* * *

Never be afraid to talk about the trauma you've been through, it can connect you to another in more ways than one could imagine.

Get help if you need help, don't be afraid admitting you need help. Don't be afraid to take those first steps of a new life if you are ready for them.

Tina.


	2. Chapter Two

Apparently, this story wouldn't leave me alone, and I had to write Ken's POV to this story. 

So here it is. He's a bit more stubborn than Rilla to write but I think it shaped out nicely. I also think I tied it nicely in a bow so no more plot bunnies can run wild on me with this one.

* * *

She came into my life like a breath of fresh air, sometimes I think I needed her more than she possibly needed me. She was teaching me patience, she was teaching me a new outlook on life. She catches herself every once in a while, frowning as she tries to stop herself thinking one way. 

The day she holds my hand for the first time, timidly despite it almost being weeks(months?)since we started down this path. We meet up occasionally at a bookstore near her place. Sometimes we wander the farmers market Saturday morning. It was all extremely innocent those early days.

We rarely talk about, she knows Nan warned me. Nothing with details, just the fact that she came out of something not so great. Di was the one who suggested we meet up in the first place after I messaged them in a group text.Making a joke that I swore I had seen Rilla in a store. 

_‘Hey, your little sister not wandering around Winnipeg is she? I swore I just sore her doppelgänger?”_

_“Rilla?” Di answers me._

_“Do you have another?”_

It takes a moment for them to reply. 

_“No Rilla is here,” Nan finally replies._

_“She was staying with me for a few months earlier this year,” Di answered next._

_“You never said anything?”_

_“She didn’t want us too, it’s a complicated situation.” Nan popped up._

_I can almost see them talking to each other in another conversation. It made me wonder just what happened._

_“Is she all right?” I asked_

_“She will be in time,” Nan answered once again._

_“You know, it might be good for her to get out a little. Maybe the two of you can meet up for coffee?” Di pops in._

_“Di!”_

_“Nan, it’s Ken. He’s perfect for Rilla to test the waters out on. He’s an old friend it will be nice for her to have a friend or a date?” Di replies back_

_“Umm…you do realize I am right here?” I write back._

I had forgotten about Di’s crazy plan when she popped up again. 

_“Rilla willing to meet you if you want to?_

_“There are some rules though,” Di responded next._

It was Nan who popped up later who told me to be let Rilla make the first moves. 

_She’s fragile_

_It’s not my place to delve into, but considering we set this up. I feel like I should at least mention that Rilla is coming out of something complicated. Let her make the first move for anything, she doesn’t like being touched. Just be patient with her, she needs friends, plus we all know she used to have a massive crush on you._

Over the weeks I learned the Nan and Di used the wrong adjective. She came out of something horrific, the thought of her going through what she went through before the age of twenty-four. It made me sick to my stomach.

She doesn’t give up many details and when they do come out. They come out quietly as if she’s letting it go for that day at the very least. Some turn my stomach, wondering how any guy could do such things to another person. Her broken arm still has a lingering pain once in a while. She regrets a lot, dropping out of school, letting herself be captivated, alienated from other people all at the same time. 

She doesn’t completely trust me, she doesn’t trust anyone. She always looking over her shoulders, always terrified that she will wake up as if this all a dream. 

Still every Saturday, we meet up somewhere. 

I learn more about her every time we see each other. She’s far from the young girl I knew as a teenager. She loves her coffee and as late summer turned into fall, her skirts were replaced by jeans and blouses. She likes pretty things, though occasionally she would sport some sort of comic book, star trek tee shirts. She was funny and enjoyed baking though admitted she was a terrible cook.

She amazed me with her silent resilience and her strength. Watching her was like a movie in my head, watching her curly hair blow in the wind as she took a deep breath of the prairie air. She loved the outdoors, it made her feel free. 

As the weather changed scarves and crocheted hats completed her outfits. 

I stood completely still as she tugged on a dark green toque on my head. It took everything in my body to not kiss her as she gave me what I remember as her first genuine happy smile. 

“There you go,” She said to me as she stepped back. “Now you’re ready for fall.” 

I wanted to tell her I had already fallen at that point. Instead, I take her offered hand, as she drags me towards the bridge in the park. 

It felt like I was learning about love all over again at thirty-one years old. Learning that love isn’t the perfect cute cutter aspect I thought I knew about.

* * *

It was a cold morning when she called me, her voice small as I answered the phone. 

“My car won’t start,” she told me. 

“Why don’t I come to pick you up?” I offered slowly. “We’re going to the same place after all?” 

I can hear her chew on her lip, debating mentally if this was something she could do. She’s guarded where she lived all this time, she hasn’t even allowed herself to be alone in the car with me. 

She silent once again for another good moment, “Okay,” she answered finally. “For the ride,” she adds on. “Can I meet you at the Starbucks on Corydon?” She asks for a compromise for herself. 

“Of course,” I smile into the phone. 

She’s on edge, but she buckles her seat belt promptly. She wearing a pair of skinny jeans, knee-high boots and a light jacket. I smile at her as she brushes her red hair out of her face, a light speckle of make up that barely covered her freckles. 

“Do you want to get a coffee or wait until getting closer to the market?” I said with a smile. 

“It is fine,” She says. I can tell she’s a basket of nerves and the only thing that keeps her grounded is when she takes my hand gingerly. Something she does more regularly when she needs a moment of stability. It's a strange balance of trusting, yet not trusting at the same time. She wants to trust me, but at the same time, she’s always ready to run. 

“You're wearing your hat,” she said after a moment. 

“Of course, it’s the warmest one that I have,” I smile at her. “I can look at your car if you want? If not I’ll call my mechanic and see if he can help you out.” I told her as I focused on driving.

“I think I forgot to get gas,” She tells me honestly.

“Well that is an easy enough fix,” I tell her with a smile. 

“I got a cat,” she tells me after a moment of silence. “A rescue, it was my therapist's idea. Her name is Luna, though one can say I forget to put gas in my car, how can I remember to feed a cat?.” It’s not the first time she mentions her therapist. I know well enough by now that her quiet calls Wednesday evenings were after those sessions. 

“Cats generally bother you more once they are hungry,” I smile at her. 

“You’re not allergic to cats are you?”

Her question is fairly innocent yet laced with what was hidden meanings in her brain.

“I’m not,” I tell her with a shake of my head. “Not allergic to any animals I think.” 

“Thats good,” she said simply as she looks out the window.

* * *

The first time she kissed me I wasn’t expecting it. We had been skating on the rink at the forks, something she hadn’t done since she was a child. Skating that is, she wants to learn before she attempts the river path later after the new year.

“I’m going to fall flat on my face,” She squeaked. “This is not like riding a bike, you don’t just remember how not to fall flat on your face while skating.” She held onto my hands as wobbled. I chuckled. 

“You’re doing fine, all you need to do is remember how to achieve your balance,” I tell her. “Relax, I’ve got you.” 

I curse to myself at that moment as she looks at me. I can see the gears turning over in her head. Her eyes misting over as she fights whatever memories come to the forefront.

“One foot then the other to push off,” she says shakily. 

“One foot, then the other,” I nod my head, gently squeezing her hands in encouragement. She’s far from the only one learning how to skate, but to me, she is the most adorable as she finds her feet. 

She picks it up quickly as her confidence grows. 

“Ken! Ken! I don’t know how to stop! I don’t know how to stop!” She panics as she picks up speed as she goes around the rink.

She crashes into me as we both flail about, I catch her as I catch my balance first as I am near the boards. I hold her up, her legs between mine as I hold her by the waist. 

Our cheeks are red from laughing, and then she kissed me timidly. Blushing and hiding her face when she finally pulled away from me. 

“Rilla?” I breathe out. She looks up at me still blushing. “Can I kiss you again?” I ask her as I lightly caress the side of her face. It takes her a moment before she nods her head, the pompom of her hat bouncing lightly. 

* * *

“Do you want to come inside watch a movie?” She asked quietly from the passenger's side of the car. It took me back as it wasn’t that long ago that she allowed me to see her small safe haven from the outside. It was an old Edwardian apartment building, that seemed to suit her. Today was the first time she ever invited my inside.

I was rather stunned for a moment.

“I have hot chocolate and marshmallows?” She interrupts my thoughts. 

“Well, you won me over with marshmallows,” I smile at her. 

Why was I nervous? I’ve been to plenty of apartments over the course of my twenties. 

I follow her up the stairs my heart beating as fast as her most likely. I know this has nothing to do with sex, though I would love nothing more than to feel her body against mine. I know that is not on the table any time soon. I know her experience is limited compared to my own and her past doesn't make it any easier for her.

We end up wrapped in old quilts that once belonged at Ingleside. Her place is her own, the furniture was mostly Ikea but it was quaint. Her cat poking its head out from its hiding spot. Watching, inspecting my every move until it jumped into her mistress's lap. 

“I’ve never seen Luna come out with company over,” she whispered. “She doesn’t even like when Nan and Di visit.” 

“I should get going?” I say looking at the clock it well after ten pm. 

“Stay,” She says shaking her head. “It’s late and it’s snowing.” 

“It’s fine it’s just snow,” I try to decline. 

“I know you’re not him,” She responded her voice steady. 

“Only if you’re sure?” I find myself saying. 

“I’m sure,” She looked up at me as she wrapped her arms around me. We fall asleep on the couch that night, waking up in the early hours as we stumble to her small bedroom still half asleep.Nothing else happens of course, not that night anyway.

* * *

Surprises didn’t work well with Rilla, so surprising her took careful planning. If it meant parking down the street from the concert hall to go have dinner, while silently keeping track of time and letting the restaurant know ahead of time. I figured it all out.

“Come this way, there are some Christmas lights this way,” I tell her, her hand it tucked into my arm. “It’s pretty.” 

“What's going on?” She asked watching all the dressed up people walk down the street. She stops at the flashing billboard. The Nutcracker dates showing, it took her a moment to realize that it was opening night. 

“You said you wanted to see it,” I explained. 

“But tickets?” She looked at me. “Di said she got some!”

I laugh as I pull out the envelope from my inner jacket pocket. “It takes a lot of planning to try and surprise you. Di was in on it,” I explain. “Why she told you to wear such a dress tonight.” 

She looks down at the dark green dress, just festive enough for a Christmas ballet. She checks her coat after we arrive. She sits down next to the lady beside us as she flips through the program. Still beaming as she takes a photo of the tickets. I watch her more than I do the ballet. How her face lights up from the dancing, the bear, the little kids dress up at mice and polar bears.

Things have been calmer, more natural since that first day. She trusts me enough that she lets me hold her, touch her, kiss her without much warning on my behalf when we are together. 

I make dinner for her at my place the second time she comes over to my place. The house was small, but I had two spare rooms and a backyard. 

She wanders around, and I can’t quite understand what going on through her head. Pictures of my niece hung on the wall that Persis had sent to me. She looked at them curiously before moving on to the next. 

“I had an abortion,” She said out of the blue. I looked up from stirring the pot I was cooking in. 

“I woke up one morning and realized that he got me pregnant. I had no other choice it seemed like. I had no money, no education, nothing not even a job.”

“You did what you had to do,” I find myself responding stunned by her admission. Not the admission itself but that she told me about the night she choose to leave. 

“For the record, and you can probably say my mindset was is flawed, but he never raped me. Not that I know of anyway. I suppose that was the one redeeming quality he had, or that the situation had.” She tells me as if she knows it’s crossed my mind.

I know enough to put together a picture of what he was like. Manipulative with a tendency to turn violent when angry enough. Charming enough that she kept staying, kept believing that it wouldn’t happen again. I’m rather thankful that she doesn’t feel that he took advantage of her sexually. At the same time, one could only wonder what he did to make her believe such a thing?

“Anyway the clinic called and left a messaged he heard it for my follow up appointment. We fought and fought until I was screaming at him. He wasn’t even mad that I got rid of it, he was mad because I didn’t ask him to get rid of it. I had been so afraid he would make me have it, make it so I could never leave him.” She said it so quietly, yet she recalling the memory like it wasn’t even her at that point. 

“That night my arm broke, I walked into the hospital. He dropped me off and pretended to go look for parking after leaving me at the door. I was crying in the emergency was they asked me what happened. One of the nurses one just looked at me and asked if my life was worth whatever was happening. I hadn’t spoken to my parents since the previous Christmas. Even then it wasn’t pleasant. Still, they were there the first flight they could get. They had no proof the police said, the most I could do was get a restraining order. My father yelled and yelled at them. My word against his wasn’t proof, you know you don’t want to believe when the law fails women. Yet it happens, happens way too often. All they did was allow me to retrieve a few personal items, clothing.A few books I had since college, some old photos of Walter and I.”

“I couldn’t fathom everyone at home knowing what happened. So I decided Winnipeg the twins were here and I could hide out until I could figure out life.” She explains just how she came here. I turned down the stove and walk closer to her. 

“Well, I’m glad you did,” I tell her pressing a kiss on her temple, in turn, she looked up at me and kissed me

“I don’t deserve you,” She whispers. 

“You deserve much more than what I can give you,” I shake my head at her.

* * *

I repeat the words often as I watch her sleep in my bed, curled up in a ball. Her long reddish hair glowing like a halo around her from the streetlight outside the window.

One night, it happened unexpectedly but never felt more right. Far from the scenes, you see in movies. Nerves truly got the better of us. It was like being an awkward fumbling teenager all over again as we figure out contraception and what works for us.

She’s silent afterwards, so quiet as I can hear her thinking to herself. 

“Are you all right?” I asked hesitantly worried that she would bolt and I would awaken alone. Instead, she kisses me sweetly then yawning as she curls into me. 

“I’m perfect, you were perfect,” she said quietly. 

I fall asleep with some sort of daydream in my head. I can picture us growing together in this very house. Imagining her making it her own over time.Having our families over for holidays and special occasions like her graduation from college.

Little did I know in two years, it would become a reality as we became engaged. My ring sparkling on her finger, in routine in her own strange way she gave me one as well. A white gold band with small feather-like etchings around it. The house I bought as a bachelor grew into a family home, she made it home.

I carried her over the threshold, both of us laughing the day after our small city hall wedding. Nothing large or elaborate, family and a few key friends.

By the end of five years, we welcomed our first child. A daughter who looked so much like her mother. I felt my heart be swallowed up the first time she opened her eyes and looked at me. Wallis, after Walter she ended up being named, though commonly known as Alli to the family.Followed by a son another two years later, a sweet boy who we named after my father Owen.

They say your life begins the day you are born, and maybe it does but I also know.My life began the day she entered it.


End file.
